


Dying Light

by nightscape



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, Death, I'm Going To Hell For This, M/M, Post-The Death Cure, The Death Cure, The Death Cure Spoilers, minewt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4798703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightscape/pseuds/nightscape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after the end, Minho sits alone on a cliff at the edge of the world, carrying a birthday cake. And he remembers- he remembers everything.</p><p>(In which Minho had been the one to pull the trigger instead.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dying Light

A year after the end, Minho sits alone on a cliff at the edge of the world, carrying a birthday cake.

The grass is soft beneath his bare feet and the sun hangs low over the sea, giving off a soft glow as it prepares to retire for the day. Somewhere in the distance, the survivors have gathered in the common field to have dinner. Nobody calls for Minho.

Everyone knows not to bother him today. The Gladers have been especially sombre throughout the day, knowing what occasion it is. Frypan had baked the cake in the late afternoon and handed it to Minho without a word, and Thomas had given him a sad smile as his friend carried the birthday cake up to his spot on the cliff.

Minho sets the cake down on the grass as gently as he can, taking care not to mess up the berries that Frypan had so carefully arranged on top. He knows that Thomas, Aris and Brenda must have spent hours in the fields gathering the ingredients- everyone wanted to do their part to pay tribute to their lost brother.

He pulls out a yellowed piece of paper from his pocket and unfolds it. It's a handwritten letter, stained with blood and tears and crumpled from the many times it's been crushed between shaking hands. Nevertheless, it's Minho's most prized possession- it's the only part of Newt that he got to keep. Already anticipating a fresh wave of pain, the kind he feels only when thinking about Newt and that fateful night in Denver, he takes a deep breath and starts from the top.

 

_Minho:_

_By the time you read this, who knows where the hell I'll be. Roastin' marshmallows over a campfire with Alby and Ben and Chuck, maybe. Anyway, be glad you're the one special shank I decided to write to. There are some things I want you to know, things I haven't had the courage to say to your ugly face all these years._

 

Minho and Thomas jump out of the van and walk slowly towards their friend, hands held out in a placating manner. Even from a distance, they can see the madness in Newt's eyes as he stands alone, tattered clothes hanging on skin and bones under the flickering lamplight.

"Hey. Newt. It's us, Minho and Thomas. You remember us, right?" Thomas calls out as the duo approach him. His voice trembles ever so slightly.

Newt blinks, and it's almost like somebody flipped a switch in his brain. "'Course I remember, you came by the Palace just a few days ago. I couldn't have completely lost my marbles since then, could I? You're a sight for sore eyes, Tommy, but I'm gonna have to ask you to get back into the van and keep your butt planted on that seat. Stay there, no matter what." He turns his gaze in Minho's direction, and his expression is unreadable. "He's the one I want to see."

Minho gulps nervously as he watches a bewildered Thomas turn and head back to the van where Lawrence is waiting. He has no choice but to keep walking forward, one hesitant step at a time. "Hey, you alright?"

"Minho." Newt chokes out through gritted teeth. He's clearly fighting to keep control over himself. Minho feels his chest constrict painfully at the sight of his friend struggling like this.

"I've been looking for you," is all the blonde boy says before he suddenly collapses to the ground.

 

_It's my birthday today. The last one I'll be around to celebrate, anyway. How do I know, you ask? Guess the virus must've done something while it was eating away at my brain, because when I woke up today, all my memories were back. Every last one of 'em. Sucks that I had to regain my memory this way, huh?_

_It's getting real depressing here in the Berg, without you shanks around. I turned off the power to save fuel today, so it's dark and bloody hot. Since I'm all alone in here, can this place be considered a Crank Palace? ...Alright, I admit I'm bad at jokes. Now stop sniggering, I can probably hear it all the way from the afterlife._

_I made myself a birthday cake just now, if stacking up Jorge's rations counts. Pretended it was a sponge cake with berries on top, lit a candle and blew it out all by myself. And then I realized how much I wished you were here with me. I can handle the Maze, the Scorch, even the blooming Flare for crying out loud, but the one thing I can't shucking stand is the emptiness I feel whenever you're away from me. Call me a sap, but it's true._

 

"Shit, Newt!" Minho rushes over to his friend, kneeling on the gravel and pulling the boy's head into his lap. He cringes at the feeling of Newt's bones nearly protruding through his skin- he's lost too much weight after just a few days on the streets. "C'mon, wake up!"

As if on cue, Newt's eyes snap open and he rears up, snarling at Minho. There is nothing but ferocity in his eyes, and Minho falls backwards in terror. He's about to make a dash for it, but thin fingers close around his wrist before he can get up.

"No, don't go! I'm sorry." The Newt he knows is slowly returning, the color draining back into his face. His voice softens. "It- it wasn't me, I swear. It won’t be back for a while. Don't leave me. Please."

How can Minho resist? He kneels beside his friend once again, helping Newt into a sitting position on the pavement. Then he goes to sit next to Newt, heart thudding painfully in his chest as the ragged boy leans on his shoulder with a sigh.

"I'm glad you're here," Newt murmurs. And right there, on the unfamiliar sidewalk of a crumbling city, Minho has never felt more at home.

 

_Funny how the first memory that came back to me this morning had you in it. It was when I was seven and you were eight, right after the bastards rounded us up and dropped us off at their headquarters._

_They had to run some tests on us, and one of them involved injections. The needles were shuckin' huge, I swear, and when they told me I had to go first I started sobbing like a baby because I was bloody_ terrified _. And even though you didn't even know my name, you marched right up to the doctor and told her you'd go first instead. Guess what, genius? You ended up bawling even louder than I did. You were an idiot from the start, that's for sure. But I liked you._

_When I was nine and you were ten, we were practically inseparable. I talked you into pranking the pants off some scientists one day, and we set a bunch of baby Grievers loose in the lab._

_The moment they caught us, you took the rap for me, shuck-for-brains. They locked you in an empty room next to the one you'd always shared with me, and we couldn't see each other for a whole week. It was the first time we'd been separated for so long since we came to WICKED. By the fourth day, we were crying to each other through a vent in the wall. Can you believe it? Neither can I, but I do miss those times._

_I'm sure you'll remember this one, Minho. When I was sixteen and took a dive off the wall of the Maze, you sat by my bed and cried your eyes out the entire night after Alby found me. It was the first time I'd seen you cry in seven years._

_I'll never forget how you quit Running for a whole month just to help me recover. You splinted my leg and took me on walks around the Glade every day, never mind how furious Alby was. (Ben nearly died running double the distance because you decided to shuck your duties, the poor slinthead.) And when I wanted to give up, you shook my shoulders and told me I was much stronger than that. The day my leg finally healed enough for me to take my first step on my own-- idiot, you broke down all over again._

 

"Take this." Newt slips a folded piece of paper into Minho’s pocket. "Don't read it till I'm gone. And take out your gun."

"What are you-" Minho's thoughts are a complete mess, eyes stinging although he barely understands what's going on. Why does this feel like a goodbye? "What are you saying?"

Newt somehow finds the strength to push away from Minho. He takes the other boy's chin in his hands and looks him right in the eye, gaze determined. "I'm asking you to kill me. Right now."

 

_Minho, you're the reason I picked my sorry arse up and survived the past three years. I can't allow you to waste any more tears and energy on me, not when I'm already past the point of no return. So I've made up my mind- I'm going to ask you to end my life._

_You'll refuse at first, I'm sure, but you'll do it eventually. I know this because I trust you with all my heart._

 

"I can't! I won't!" Minho half-yells, voice rising. He stands up, hands closing around his pistol protectively. "I'm taking you with us, Newt. It's not over yet."

Newt's eyes flash dangerously as he rises to his feet. "We both know I can't live like this any longer. What are you gonna do when I’m past the buggin’ Gone? Chain me up like an animal, keep me in a cage? I want you to remember me this way, as a human, not a goddamned bloodthirsty monster." He pauses for breath, chest heaving. "This is different from what I attempted back in the Glade, Minho. I'm not asking to die because I hate this world, I'm asking to die now to save us both from unimaginable pain."

  

_In this dying world, you brought me back to life. The only way I can die happy is by your hands. And I will go with peace of mind, knowing that I told you this: I love you._

 

For the first time in a long while, Minho is completely lost for words. He can only stare at the blonde boy beseechingly, as if that would make him take back his request.

Newt reaches out, delicate fingers brushing away the first of Minho's tears. "Silly shank," he murmurs, before leaning in and pressing their lips together.

It's an innocent first kiss- brief and sweet, and for an endless moment Minho feels nothing but a glowing, pulsing warmth. It ends far too soon, and he’s almost ashamed at the way he subconsciously lurches forward to try to keep their lips together when Newt pulls away.

Newt gives a small hum of satisfaction. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time, Minho. You have no idea."

In response, Minho steps forward to wrap his arms around the other boy, burying his face in Newt's hair. He does his best to ignore the fact that a pistol still weighs heavy in one of his hands. Somewhere beneath the stench of petroleum and smoke and blood is a familiar scent of grass and sunshine, of the only home he's ever known. The blonde boy reciprocates, winding delicate arms around Minho's torso and pressing closer still, both of them trying to commit the feeling of this final embrace to memory.

Again, Newt is the first to pull back, hands still resting on Minho's waist. He tries to smile, but his lopsided grin is marred by tears, and the sight of it makes Minho's entire being ache with desperation.

"You're breaking my heart," Minho's voice barely comes out as a whimper. By now, his entire body is shaking. This can't be happening, Newt deserves to live nothing less than a full and happy life, this isn't how it should end--

"This is how I want to go," Newt says, finality in every word. He takes Minho's hand and gently guides the barrel of the pistol to his temple. This time, no protest is made. "Please, Minho. Please." As Minho places a trembling finger on the trigger and lets out a sob, Newt closes his eyes and smiles.

A single gunshot rings through the streets, closely followed by Thomas' frantic shouting from the van. All Minho can hear is the sound of his heart shattering beyond repair.

  

_Are you crying again, shuckface? Stop it, I told you not to. (I'm probably sitting atop a bloody rainbow right now, looking down and laughing at your dumb face. Just kidding, I’d be shucked if there are any rainbows in this hellhole). We'll see each other again anyway, unless Fry whips up some magic potion for immortality. In the meantime, take care of everyone, especially Tommy- beats me how that kid can singlehandedly kill a Griever and still manage to trip over his own buggin' feet._

_Don’t stop fighting till you’ve found the happiness and freedom you’ve always wanted. And maybe, just maybe, think of your old friend every now and then._

 

_Missing you,_

_Newt_

 

Minho closes the letter. He hadn't realized that the sun had already sunk halfway below the horizon.

"Big brother!" A child's voice snaps him out of his daze, and he hastily wipes the tears from his eyes before turning around. Behind him stands a chubby-cheeked little girl, one of the younger Immunes they'd rescued during the final escape.

"Oh, hey there, Maya." Minho forces a grin and pats her on the head. "Here, you can sit with me if you like. Have you had dinner?"

Maya nods, her ponytails bouncing up and down, then plops herself down in the grass beside the older boy. She peeks over at the piece of paper in Minho's hands and asks, "What are you reading, big bro?"

"This? It's, um, just a letter. From a friend I had to leave behind, back in the terrible place we came from."

"But... why couldn't he come with us?" Maya questions with wide eyes.

"He was too good for this world," Minho simply answers. "Maya, you have friends, don't you?"

"I do, I do!" The little girl's face lights up. "Bill and Jenny and Louise. And big brother Aris, he gives me piggyback rides all the time."

Minho smiles, remembering how he play-wrestled and hunted for snakes with Newt in the Glade once upon a time. "Treasure them, alright? Friends are really precious, and you'd be sad without them." He absently picks at the blades of grass at his feet. "Really, really sad." 

"Okay," Maya replies, but her brows are slightly furrowed as she looks up at Minho. Realizing how upset he must look, the older boy quickly turns away, using all of his self-control to hold back the emotions that threaten to overflow. Thankfully, Maya runs off to play not long afterwards, leaving Minho alone with his thoughts.

Minho folds up the letter and tucks it back into his pocket, then turns to face the setting sun once more. In the dimming golden rays of light, he catches a glimpse of blonde hair and a smile that once lit up his universe.

 

"Happy birthday, Newt."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, reader. If you enjoyed reading this, even if just a little, come talk to me! Grab a cup of tea, hop aboard the sinking Minewt ship and let's share our pain, yeah?


End file.
